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CHAPTER XV.

THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD.

"Where are the proud and lofty dames,

Their jewell'd crowns, their gay attire,
Their odours sweet?

Where are the love-enkindled flames,

The bursts of passionate desire
Laid at their feet?

Where are the songs, the troubadours,
The music which delighted then ?—

It speaks no more.

Where is the dance that shook the floors,

And all the gay and laughing train,

And all they wore ?

"The royal gifts profusely shed,

The palaces so proudly built,

With riches stor'd;

The roof with shining gold o'erspread,

The services of silver gilt,

The secret hoard,

The Arabian pards, the harness bright,

The bending plumes, the crowded mews,

The lacquey train,

Where are they ?-where!-all lost in night,

And scatter'd as the early dews

Across the plain."

BOWRING'S ANC. SPAN. ROMANCES.

ROMANCE and song have united to celebrate the splendours of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold."

The most scrupulously minute and faithful of recorders has detailed day by day, and point by point, its varied and showy routine, and every subsequent historian has borrowed from the pages of the old chronicler; and these dry details have been so expanded by the breath of Fancy, and his skeleton frame has been so fleshed by the magical drapery of talent, that there seems little left on which the imagination can dilate, or the pen expatiate.

The astonishing impulse which has in various ways within the last few years been given to the searching of ancient records, and the development of hitherto obscure and comparatively uninteresting details, and vesting them in an alluring garb, has made us as familiar with the domestic records of the eighth Henry, as in our school-days we were with the orthodox abstract of necessary historical information, that "Henry the Eighth ascended the throne in the 18th year of his age;" that "he became extremely corpulent;" that "he married six wives, and beheaded two." Not even affording gratuitously the codicil which the talent of some writer hath educed-that "if Henry the Eighth had not beheaded his wives, there would have been no impeachment on his gallantry to the fair sex."

But in describing this, according to some, "the most magnificent spectacle that Europe ever beheld,” and to others, "a heavy mass of allegory and frippery," historians have been contented to pourtray the outward features of the gorgeous scene, and have slightly, if at all, touched on the contending feelings which were veiled beneath a broad though thin surface of concord and joy. Truly, it were a

task of deep interest, even slightly to picture them, or to attempt to enter into the feelings of the chief actors on that field.

First and foremost, as the guiding spirit of the whole, as the mighty artificer of that pageant on which, however gaudy in its particulars the fates of Europe were supposed to depend, and the earnest eyes of Europe were certainly fixed-comes WOLSEY. -Gorgeously habited himself, and the burnished gold of his saddle cloth only partially relieved by the more sombre crimson velvet; nay, his very shoes gleaming with brilliants, and himself withal so lofty in bearing, of so noble a presence, that this very magnificence seemed but a natural appendage, Wolsey took his lofty way from monarch to monarch; and so well did he become his dignity, that none but kings, and such kings as Henry and Francis, would have drawn the eyes of the myriad spectators from himself. And surely he was now happy ; surely his ambition was now gratified to the uttermost; now, in the eyes of all Europe did the two proudest of her princes not merely associate with him almost as an equal, but openly yield to his suggestions-almost bow to his decisions. Noloftily as he bore himself, courtly as was his demeanour, rapid and commanding as was his eloquence, and influential as seemed his opinions on all and every one around-the cardinal had a mind ill at ease, as, despite his self-control, was occasionally testified by his contracted brow and thoughtful aspect. After exerting all the might of his mighty influence, and for his own aggrandisement, to procure this meeting between the two potentates, he

had at the last moment seen fit to alter his policy. He had sold himself to a higher bidder; he had pledged himself to Charles in the very teeth of his solemn engagement to Francis. Even whilst celebrating this league of amity, he was turning in his own mind the means by which to rupture it; and was yet withal, nervously fearful of any accident which should prematurely break it, or lead to a discovery of his own faithlessness.-So much for his enjoyment!

Our KING HENRY was all delight, and eager impetuous enjoyment. He had not outlived the good promise of his youth; nor had his foibles become, by indulgence, vices. He loved to see all around him happy; he loved, more especially, to make them so. He delighted in all the exercises of the field; he was unrivalled in the tilt and the tournament ; and when engaged in them forgot kings and kingdoms. His vanity, outrageous as it was, hardly sat ungracefully on him, so much was it elevated then by bouyant good humour-so much was it softened at that time by his noble presence, his manly grace, his kingly accomplishments, and his regal munificence. The stern and selfish tyrant whom one shudders to think upon, was then only "bluff King Hal," loving and beloved, courted and caressed by an empire. He gave himself up to the gaieties of the time without a care for the present, a thought for the future. Could he have glanced dimly into that future! But he could not, and he was happy.

FRANCIS was admirably qualified to grace this scene, and to enjoy it, as probably he did enjoy it, vividly. Yet was this gratification by no means un

alloyed. His gentle manly nature was irritated at certain stipulations of Henry's advisers, by which their most trivial intercourse was subjected to specific regulations. There were recorded instances enough of treacherous advantages taken to justify fully this conduct on the part of Henry's ministers ; but Francis felt its injustice, as applied to himself, and at that time, made use of a generous and wellknown stratagem to convince others. But in the midst of his enjoyments he had misgivings on his mind of a more serious nature, caused by the Emperor's recent visit to Dover. These misgivings were increased by the meeting between Henry and Charles at Gravelines; and too surely confirmed by quickly-following circumstances.

The gentle and good KATHARINE of England, and the equally amiable Queen CLAUDE, the carefully-trained stepdaughter of the noble and admirable Anne of Bretagne, probably derived their chief gratification here from the pleasure of seeing their husbands amicable and happy. For queens though they were, their happiness was in domestic life, and their chief empire was over the hearts of those domesticated with them.

Not so the DoWAGER QUEEN of France-the lively, and graceful, and beautiful Duchess of Suffolk; for though very fond of her royal brother, and devoted to her gallant husband, she had yet an eye and an ear for all the revelries around, and had a radiant glance and a beaming smile for all who crowded to do homage to her charms. And yet her heart must have been somewhat hard-and that we know it was not-if she could have inhaled the air of France, or

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